Eternal Dance
by TheGirlOfThorns
Summary: Alec Lightwood-Bane is 78 years old and still deeply in love with Magnus, and the feeling is still mutual. Alec, though, misses dancing with his husband. What will Magnus do to cheer him up? Cute, fluffy Malec oneshot. NO CHARACTER DEATHS, YAY :D. M/M. Don't like, don't read. Rated T only for language. (I'm really proud of this one guys.)


**So this is an idea I've had in my head for a while... what will Magnus and Alec be like many, many years from now? I think this is a pretty good representation. Please R&R!**

Magnus never changed. And, sixty years into a relationship with the most beautiful man alive, Alec Lightwood-Bane knew he was far from perfect. He was in exceptional health for someone of his age, yes, and contrary to what he believed when he was a boy he and Magnus only grew closer with time, not away from each other when the years began to take the beautiful blue-eyed boy away from the warlock and replace him with a shriveled old man. They were always so happy together, Alec thought, and he would never have wanted to live his life any other way than the way he had, with Magnus by his side, to talk to and laugh with and love.

But on nights like these, watching the perfect, frozen-in-time, nineteen year old face sleep next to him comfortably, it was all Alec could do not to run his wrinkled hand through his gray hair and cry. He was in incredibly good health, yes, and he was almost sure he would make it to a hundred- _at least _a hundred, Magnus would say, pulling him into his arms tightly and smiling- but he was still old, and the elderly had to deal with issues naturally. About ten years ago, Alec's legs had given out beneath him, and then before he knew it it was a rush of Magnus and blue sparks and then when that didn't work sirens and lights and infirmaries and_ oh God _the doctor who said, "Sorry, Sir, but we have no cure for old age."

Alec cried all night that night knowing that he would never be able to walk on his own again. Magnus held him until he was finished, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear and laying gentle kisses all along his face. He could get around the house with help, yes, but it wasn't the same as doing it on his own. And then whenever he went out in public, Magnus pushing him gently in his wheelchair, everyone on the streets undoubtedly referring that he was his grandfather or old uncle or something. He told himself every time not to mind. They never had been meant to be, but they had made it work. After all these years, Magnus still loved him, and he knew it. And he did nothing if not love Magnus Lightwood-Bane with every ounce of everything that he had.

And there were nights like these, sometimes, though not often, humiliating nights like these, when he needed to get up so badly but he couldn't do it on his own and so he did the only thing he knew how to do: he tried to crawl out of bed all on his own, failing and hurting his legs, and then mustering up the courage to shake his husband awake as he was doing now, and say, through flushed cheeks and a shaking voice,

"Magnus? I need to go to the bathroom. I... I need help."

It was fucking _embarrassing, _Alec thought, and it was something that Magnus would never be able to empathize with, but Magnus simply gave him a quick peck on the lips and got up, taking his forearms in his palms, and helping him to his feet. Magnus was so perfect and so kind to him. He deserved none of it. It wasn't fair. He loved him.

It took about ten minutes, but finally they were back in bed.

"Your eyes are beautiful, darling," Magnus told him, smiling a little bit and putting his fingers through his lover's hair. "You're the world to me, you know that, right?" Magnus asked Alec, and closed his eyes, holding Alec's hand. Alec said nothing. "Your hand is cold," Magnus spoke again, and this time, Alec responded,

"I'm cold, Magnus. I'm cold a lot lately." So Magnus pulled him in close, closed the space between them, and held him as tightly as he possibly could.

"Why are you so good to me? I'm old and ugly and you're so perfect. Don't you miss your blue eyed boy? Don't you ever wish that he could be here with you? I miss being good enough for you, Magnus. I miss feeling like I deserved you…"

Magnus just pulled Alec closer. "My Alexander," he whispered. "My darling, beautiful, perfect Alexander. My wonderful blue eyed boy, who will always be my blue eyed boy. Have I ever treated you like you weren't good enough for me?"

No, he hadn't.

"Have I ever stopped telling you I love you every day?"

No, he hadn't.

"Have I ever gave off the impression that I didn't want you?"

No, he hadn't.

"If my words and my actions match up, then why think that it isn't how I feel?"

He had a point.

And then suddenly Alec was clinging to Magnus, sobbing, tears filled with a memory that he always wished to relive.

It was their wedding day. Alec had been twenty two, and Magnus had been ageless, because Magnus was always ageless and Magnus was still ageless and Magnus would always be ageless. Alec's new husband smiled at him and, after vows and kiss, had pulled him aside to the corner of the room. Alec had thought that Magnus was going to "ravish" him right there. Magnus sure always had loved to "ravish" him. It was one of his favorite things to do. But instead, he reached out a hand and asked,

"Alexander Lightwood-Bane, may I have this dance?"

At first, Alec rolled his eyes and smiled. The reception would be soon, he thought, but of course Magnus would want to go out of his way to have a dance alone before any of the other people could even get to the reception hall. So he said, sure. And pretty soon, they were twirling and laughing and kicking and stepping on each other's toes clumsily because Magnus's biggest secret was that he was terrible at slow dancing and it was clumsy and awkward and hilarious and filled with love and pretty soon they were laughing and laughing and they smiled and told bad jokes all the way home- _their _home, Alec remembered thinking, and pretty soon they were in bed, _their_ bed, and it was the most amazing night Alec had ever had in his whole life.

"Love? What's wrong?" Magnus started to make circles on Alec's back and his voice was filled with concern.

"I know you love me. I know you do. It's just so hard sometimes. You shouldn't love me. You should throw me away and get someone worthy of you. You should throw me away…" his voice cut off and another sob came out.

Magnus looked surprised. "Throw you away? Like you're some broken toy? Alexander, you're not broken, and you're not a toy. You're my husband, the only husband I've ever had. Stop being ridiculous. Find someone else? Alexander, I promised you that there wasn't going to be a next time, and I never lie to you. Ever. You're it for me. There is no one else that I ever want to dance through life with besides you, so I won't. I never will be with anyone else and you know it." But Alec's mind only clung to one word

_Dance dance dance dance dance dance dance dance _"Magnus, I miss dancing with you."

"Darling… you know one day, when you and I both have forever, we'll dance together again."

Alec, though, was already asleep. He had literally cried himself to sleep that night. And it just made Magnus love him even more.

The next morning, Alec woke up rudely to a hand lifting his lower back up from the top of the bed that he shared with Magnus and another hand gently lifting up his legs at the knee joints so he wasn't even touching the mattress anymore, but rather was being tightly but gently held to his warlock's chest.

"I'm not hurting you by picking you up like this, am I, darling?" Alec shook his head. Besides feeling sleepy, he actually felt pretty wonderful, leaving the misery that h felt last night behind himself.

"Then, Alexander Lightwood-Bane, may I have this dance?" Magnus asked him, and it was only then that he realize that the sound that was ringing in his ears was in fact music coming from the small box in the corner of the room and that Magnus was stepping the same ridiculous clumsy steps that he had stepped almost fifty-five years ago on that night that Alec was remembering. Alec smiled so brightly that something inside Magnus lit up too.

"Always, Mags. Always."

They danced and danced all day.

That night, they lay side by side in a comfortable silence.

"Magnus?" Alec demanded his husband's attention.

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being so good to me all the time, even though…" his voice trailed off.

Magnus put an arm around Alec's shoulder and pulled him closer, and Alec gave himself up to the intimate gesture.

"I love you, my Alexander."

"I wish I could stay with you forever."

Magnus laughed. "We have at LEAST twenty more years," he told Alec playfully. "You aren't leaving me THAT easily." Alec laughed.

"And then what?"

"And then I keep you in my heart forever, until the day I die, and no one else. And then, one day, we will be able to dance together again, in the sky.

For eternity."

**Okay, so I actually cried while I was writing this. In public. Oh, dear. Anyways, I love Malec so much and I think this is perfect. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think. Also, be sure to check out my (much happier humor and friendship) fic "Waking up in Vegas!" It's in progress and I've been updating fairly regularly. Just today... I was feeling this kind of fic a lot more.**

**Thanks for the support! ~H**


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